Mentor
by mikkimikka
Summary: America has a crush on Iceland and has a rather outlandish idea as to the best way to confess it. England proves to be rather reliable.


**MENTOR.**

The older nation hadn't even bothered to put his newspaper down when the teenaged nation walked in. He didn't need to. He could tell the clomping of those boots from Canada's with ease. Really, Anyone could. As soon as he heard America step into the parlor that morning without so much as a good morning.

"So I spoke to Russia and France about this plan of yours and we're not going to do it," England said.

"Huh?"

England heard the slide of the chair as America pulled it back and loudly sat down. Did everything he did have to be so loud?

"Why?" America asked, concern dripping from his voice.

England sighed and lowered his newspaper.

"Because it's moronic," he replied.

America's shoulders deflated.

"No way, it's an amazing idea!"

"How so?" England asked.

"Well," began America, voice wavering only slight. "Well you see..."

"Yes?" pressed England.

"Well, Iceland loves nature."

"Go on," England said, folding the newspaper, dying to see where this went. The boy was always a few sandwiches short of a picnic and he wondered how America could possibly defend his newest scheme.

Blue eyes met green in a stalemate.

"Go on," England prodded once more.

"So... having you kidnap him to the cold Siberian wastelands, leaving him to the elements for me to swoop in and save him is practically a romantic vacation."

"You're mad!"

"Am not!" whined America.

"Being complicit in the kidnapping of a fellow nation is not something either of us would like to place on our agenda."

He hated to think the outrage it'd cause Iceland's brothers as well.

England continued, "Furthermore you haven't a romantic bone in your body. I wonder who could have influenced your peculiar brand of courtship. Certainly wasn't me."

Content with his rebuttal, England picked up his newspaper again and resumed reading.

"Then how would you go about it, England?" America asked.

"Well, I wouldn't kidnap the fellow that's for sure," England said from behind the paper. He lowered it again. "I'd just tell him properly, to his face. Perhaps over a drink or during a walk. I'd gauge his mood, maybe leading with some probing questions and- are you taking notes?"

America looked up from where he was totally scribbling down what England said on one of the discarded sections of the newspaper.

"Yeah, I mean, I want this to work out."

America looked down at his notes and sighed heavily.

"I wish there was some way to show him that I'm reliable."

England's mouth was pressed in a line as he observed the dejected figure of his former charge. The boy had grown a lot over the centuries from that tiny little babe he'd met in the tall grass. In all that time England had known it were a possibility for the lad to grain affection for another nation, but he'd never stopped to think who it would be.

"Do you think that's what Iceland wants out of a relationship, for you to be someone he relies upon?" England asked.

"Isn't that what anyone wants? Someone who is reliable?" America returned.

"Maybe so," England nodded. "But it may not be the primary thing he seeks. Being reliable is good but Iceland has a lot of people in his life he already relies upon. The question is what can you add to his life?"

"I just want everyone to be happy," America said. "Iceland included."

"You're thinking already rather deeply, but it isn't some grand proposal. He's your friend and a fellow nation. You already have an established relationship. I'd say, given your lack of subtlety, he already knows that you desire more. My initial advice remains. At the meeting tomorrow, ask him for a bit of his time alone. Tell him on simplest terms how you feel. Don't be pushy, there is no need for aggression. Hear his answer and go from there."

"Wow, England that..." America blinked before his face blossomed into a relieved smile. "I knew I could always rely on you. You always give the best advice out of anyone I know."

England fought back the feeling of pleasure the spread through him as he waved the compliment away. He once more buried his face in his newspaper, this time to hide his smile.

* * *

AN: written as a drabble based on a quote from incorrecthetaliaquotes on tumblr


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